


Inside the Past

by jadistmt



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Alternative Perspective, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Drinking, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Running Away, Short, Smoking, Tags Are Hard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2019-11-09 00:51:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17991719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadistmt/pseuds/jadistmt
Summary: We go back to the 1980's in Stoke-on-Trent. Murdoc Niccals is a young delinquent, living his life in freedom before a mistake leads him to a whole knew world... starting with his disconsolate father.





	1. Young and Cocky

**Author's Note:**

> things start out simple before all hell breaks loose.  
> (this chapter is kinda short but hopefully I flush this story out)

Murdoc had just slipped past the store clerk and into the alleyway with a pack of cigarettes. He smiled to himself as he took the pack out of his pocket to admire it. Sure, he had stolen before, but this time he was especially proud. He told the woman at the desk he needed some Aspirin for his grandmother, and when she went off to get it for him, he snagged the cigarettes and left the store. It was a sickening excuse, but in the end harmless. He put the pack back into his pocket and continued his stroll down the road. He headed a few blocks toward a park, straying further from his house, but he knew his father wouldn't worry he was gone. It was cold and the park was mostly empty, so he took a seat at the bottom of a tree. He pulled out the cigarettes, taking one from the pack and holding it in his mouth. He pulled the black-metal lighter from his pocket. It was his dad's lighter, indicated by the 'SN’ scratched into the metal. He struck the light and lifted it to his cigarette, sucking in as it lit. Taking away the light he breathed in fully, letting the smoke absorb onto his system before he took the cigarette away and blew out a clean puff of smoke. He watched as it drifted into the crisp, cold air and dissipated before he took another drag. His eyes narrowed across the road as his mind idled in the freedom of the day.   
“Can I have one of those?” A sudden voice emerged beside him. He swiftly turned his head and looked the person who spoke over with timid eyes. She was a slim woman with jeans, expensive looking shoes, and a big brown coat.   
“Piss off. Buy your own.” Murdoc growled as he took another long drag, squinting his eyes at her as he blew the smoke out dramatically.   
“I would, but I have no money. That's why I asked you for one. Don't have to be rude about it.” She huffed in response.   
“These are mine. Stole 'em fair and square. If you want one, go get 'em yourself.” He instructed with no sympathy. The woman threw up her hands and shook her head.   
“Forget it.” She snapped at him. She shoved her hands in her pockets as she hauled off.   
Murdoc mocked her with silent hand motions and a jester's face, snickering as he watched her pace down the street.


	2. You'll Never Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> what starts out as an uncomfortable morning turns into a nightmare   
> (warning for violence)

Murdoc's eyes opened with some hesitation as a piercing reflection of light off of this windshield stung his tired eyes. A little dazed, he aggressively rubbed his face and sat up in his seat. After his cigarette and the woman had disappeared from his sight, Murdoc got up off the ground and decided to go to the liquor store, wander the city, have another smoke or two, get another drink… or two... and then go sleep in his car parked across town. He hoped his dad wouldn’t be awake yet so he could slide the lighter back into his dresser without him even knowing it was gone. When he left home, his dad was passed out drunk in his lounge chair, and he expected him to be in the same state once he returned. The older Murdoc got, the more of a violent alcoholic his father became, it seemed.   
He smacked his mouth lips a few times, asserting the foul taste in his mouth as his headache became increasingly worse. He tiredly fumbled his keys into the ignition and put his hands against the cold wheel, and drove home.   
The car was parked in the alleyway behind his house. The house was old and stood two stories tall, and Murdoc slipped through the creaky back door to quickly return the lighter to it's spot. He was miserably hungover and just wanted to get it back before his dad noticed, and fall back asleep in his own bed. Once in the kitchen, despite his better judgement, he quietly grabbed a glass of water. His hands shook as he lifted the tap and then chugged the water. He set the glass down on the counter and quickly turned to continue his journey, but was unexpectedly met with the stature of his father looming silently in front of him. Murdoc tried not to react, but couldn't help but flinch backward just a little.   
“There you are, boy.” Sebastian stated grimly as his face remained unreadable. “Where is it?” He asked directly, causing Murdoc to force away his nerves and look his father in the eyes.  
“Where's what?” He responded nonchalantly.  
“My lighter, boy. The black one.” His voice edged with anger as he offered out a hand.   
I'm not just handing it over like a guilty child.   
Murdoc's ego got ahead of him, and instead of giving the lighter back there and then, he shrugged.   
“No clue.” He added, smacking his lips together again and looking his dad in the eye, unconcerned.   
“Lying through your teeth might work on the fools on the street, but don't you dare try it on me.” Sebastian growled, his open hand, curling into a fist and his jaw clenching.   
“What? I just borrowed it.” Murdoc admitted, his nerves beginning to return, but he kept it calm and hidden. Before he could even think twice about what he said, he was knocked backward by a hard blow to his stomach. He coughed out a groan as he clutched his stomach and winced in pain.   
“You think you could get away with it? Slip it by me like I'm some idiot?” Sebastian shouted as he brought another punch to Murdoc's stomach. The wind was knocked out of him before he could manage any sort of response. Then a wack to his face with a dirty iron pan that sent an extreme and intense pain through his skull. Murdoc fell hard onto the ground, too disoriented and shocked to defend himself before he was met with hard, booted kicks to ribs and stomach. Murdoc continued to clutch his stomach as he cried out in pain and hot tears welled in his eyes. He knew better than to be smart with his father. He knew he would always pay the price, but it had never been as bad as it was at that moment. The hits were coming too quick and too hard for Murdoc to do anything other than hold his aching stomach and fight back the tears. Sebastian kicked Murdoc one last time straight in the nose, a large crack coming right after. Then he stopped. He loomed over Murdoc's curled up body and the silence was filled with stifled cries. Blood pooled out of Murdoc's nose and mouth, along with the large cut across his forehead. He was overwhelmed by fear and extreme pain radiating throughout his entire body, and in that moment, he felt worse than he had ever felt in his entire life.   
“You ready to give it back now?” He asked with no emotion and no remorse. Murdoc simply whimpered in response, not moving from his place in fear of the extreme pain. Sebastian sighed in frustration and placed his boot on top of Murdoc's head.   
“Give me the damned lighter before you make me give you a fucking lobotomy with my goddamn shoe!” Sebastian screamed, pressing down on Murdoc's skull. His arm spastically reached down from his stomach into his pocket, pulling out the black-metal lighter, and weakly lifting it above him. His father snatched it away instantly, pressing down slightly harder before taking his foot away and pocketing the lighter.   
“And give me your damn cigarettes.” He added. Murdoc didn't even hesitate. He reached into his pocket and handed him the half empty pack of smokes. Once he took those as well, he looked down at his son with narrowed eyes, dissatisfied.  
“You'll never learn when to shut your disgusting mouth.” Sebastian spat, baring his teeth before turning and walking out of the kitchen. He stomped up the stairs and entered his bedroom, slamming the door and disappearing from sight.   
Now that he was gone, Murdoc let out a sob so forceful and terrible it barely sounded like him. Once he started, he couldn't stop. Murdoc sobbed like a dying animal as he clutched his broken insides and was consumed by pain. He cried loudly on the floor longer than he'd ever cried before, even as a baby. Alone in the kitchen. He would always be alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof this was a rough one  
> more chapters coming soon I hope y'all are enjoying


	3. Back Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> neither of them know what they're doing  
> but it's gonna be fun

Murdoc sat up off of the floor, wincing in pain as he cupped his nose that continued to bleed. He set his hands up against the counter and pulled himself up. He spit the blood in his mouth into the sink and turned on the water with his hands shaking so badly he could barely clutch the handle. Washing the blood off of his face, he swished his mouth with water and turned off the sink. All he could do was stumble back out of the kitchen and back into his car. He reached back behind the driver's seat, feeling for a bottle. He grabbed the neck of a large bottle of whiskey he found and took it forward. Murdoc popped off the cap and swung back a large amount of the liquid. It burned down his throat, but felt calming compared to the rest of his body. He set his fingers on the keys in the ignition, and before starting the car, he leaned his head forward on the steering wheel, and cried not-so-silent tears. Not because of the pain, but because of the indescribable hopelessness that washed through him.  
Stop your crying. You did this to yourself.  
But he couldn't stop, so he took another swig of the whiskey, and turned the car on. He would drive back to the one place he could think of. That park down off of main Street.  
Murdoc got out of the car, hazy, with the alcohol in hand, and stumbled against the same tree as the day before. He slid down against it until he could sit, and took another drink of the liquid. His pain was getting better but he still felt on edge. He leaned his head back against the tree and closed his eyes, letting the sounds of the birds fill his thoughts.  
“Looks like somebody got jumped.”  
Christ, her again.  
“I'm really not in the mood.” Murdoc's eyes opened slightly as he became accustomed to the sight of her. She was proudly smoking a cigarette in front of him.  
“You've got some whiskey there but where's your cigarettes, huh? Because, uh, I have a whole pack right here and you can't have any!” She taunted. It only made Murdoc more annoyed.  
“I smoked them, you sod. Now please stop badgering me and go enjoy your well earned cigarettes.” He closed his eyes again and fanned her away with his hand. Instead she sat on the ground next to him and took a drag of her smoke.  
“So what happened to you?” She asked ignorantly, clearly ignoring his requests. Murdoc muttered under his breath opening his eyes again.  
“I'll tell you if you give me one of those.” He offered, now motioning to her jacket pocket and slurring a little as he did so.  
“That's not fair.” She mumbled as she fumbled the package in her hand.  
“I guess you don't want to know ol’ Murdoc's tale of woe then, do you?” He taunted back, a smirk tugging the corners of his mouth.  
“Fine,” She huffed, “But you're still an arse.”  
She opened the pack and handed Murdoc the first one she grabbed. He put it in his mouth and made a lighting motion with his thumb, asking for a light. She made a small noise of agreement before taking out a flimsy, plastic, red lighter and lighting the end for him.  
“Thanks, love.” He took a lengthy inhale before anyone spoke again.  
“So that's your name? Murdoc?” She inquired while they both shared a smoke. Murdoc leaned forward and scratched his head for a moment to collect his thoughts.  
“Mhm.” He hummed simply.  
“Well then, Murdoc… tell me what happened since the last time I saw you.” She asked without an offer of her own name. He looked her over grimly before opening his bottle of whiskey again and taking a big drink. It was a little under half full.  
“Oh a whole lifetime, really.” He exaggerated, continuing to tiptoe around the subject before he would jump right in. This time she said nothing but watch him patiently before his next words. Of course he could lie and make up some story about how three huge men with baseball bats mugged him for all he had (not to say he didn't rough 'em up as well), or he could come right out to tell her the truth. He was much too tipsy and had too little to lose, so he offered the real story.  
“After a night of fooling around with the local liquor stores and bashing around in my car, I came home to return my father's lighter.” He looked down at the bottle before taking another drink and offering it her way. She calmly took it from him and continued to watch him intently.  
“Okay, but that doesn't explain why you've got an extra bump on your nose.” She poked fun at him before taking another sip.  
“Hold on, I'm getting there,” Murdoc shook his hands around to push away her interruption. “He got pissed at me for using it. Cracked down on me… I thought he might kill me if he hadn't come back to his senses.”  
“Shit, I'm so sorry.” She apologized without knowing what else to do. He wiped his face after finishing his cigarette, breathing sharply.  
“Well, I'm done. When he leaves again I'm coming back, grabbing my shit and leaving.” Murdoc scoffed, averting his eyes from the girl.  
“Where will you go?” She faltered as she furrowed her brow in confusion.  
“I'll find a crew and bring a band together, and then I'll have the money to get as far away from this wretched place as possible.” He put forth with blurry words.  
“You're a musician? I didn't even think you knew how to read, based on the looks of you. What do you play?” She smiled brightly at him.  
“Bass of course, and I'm actually pretty good at it.” He smirked, feeding his ego once again. She light-heartedly laughed at his pride.  
“What am I supposed to do when you're gone?”  
“We just met.” He pointed out as he began to laugh at the strange comment.  
“Just think about it. I have no job, no friends, my sister moved away last summer, my dad's never around. Meeting you is the most interesting thing that's happened to me all week.” She noted. Murdoc paused and took a moment to rifle through his thoughts through the whiskey.  
“What are you getting at?” He asked her before making to his own conclusion.  
“I'm saying, I've got nothing special here, and you don't have a crew yet… so let's go get your shit and you and me can get out of here.”  
Murdoc's face turned in confusion and his brows furrowed as he was taken back by her suggestion. She was confident, he'd give her that much.  
“I don't have the cash for a stowaway.” He jested as he shook his head.  
“I've got money, I can help you out and keep you company.” She offered and shrugged in response, finally handing the bottle back to him. His mind wandered at her comment, thinking of what other options he even had. He examined the bottle in his hands as he pondered the offer. She had nice clothes and was neatly kept, so he figured she must have quite a bit of cash.  
“Alright then,” he grumbled in defeat, “let's go. I'm sure since he's got his lighter back he'll be at the pub by now.”  
He picked himself up off the ground, breathing a little unevenly as a shock of pain went through his ribcage, a pain even the alcohol couldn't mask. She shot up quickly and offered him a hand of assistance, but he had already steadied himself before he could consider taking her help.  
“How are we getting out of here?” She questioned.  
“My car.” He motioned left to a black 1970’s Chevelle parked along the street. He pulled the keys from his pocket as he made his way over to it. She followed quickly behind, marvelled by the vehicle. It was a little beat up, but far from scrap metal. He had good taste.  
“Should I drive? You've been drinking.” She voiced her concern as they approached the vehicle.  
“So have you.” He pointed out, unlocking the door.  
“Yeah, but you've probably had four times as much as me.”  
His instinct was to repel in defense, but seeing as he could barely steady his hand to put the key in the handle, she was probably correct. He pulled the keys back and sighed in frustration. Murdoc walked past her and smushed the keys into her hand, not meeting her eyes.  
“If she gets even a scratch, you're buying her a paint job.” He warned prodding his pointer finger at her face. She looked down at the keys with a satisfied grin.  
“Whatever you say.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about the dialogue in this chapter  
> it isn't the worst but we're getting there  
> next chapter will be interesting and my version of hannibal will make an appearance :)


	4. Have Fun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the journey begins!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for not updating in a while but i suddenly got into this one again :') this chapter is kinda long but also not too eventful, the next chapter is tho

Murdoc sat down in the passenger's seat, feeling unsure of what exactly he was getting into, drifting away from home with the girl. She entered as well, sitting down and getting used to the feel of the car before turning the keys into the ignition and preparing to drive.   
“Just go down this road and turn right.” Murdoc directed as he tried to blink away his headache, but it refused to fade.   
They drove forward and she turned on the street. He gave her more instruction and the car fell silent.   
“I think you forgot to mention your name.” He accused boldly. Her eyes darted over to him before going back to the road and answering him.   
“Brianna. People call me Anna.”   
“Take a left into that alley for me then, Brianna.” Murdoc chirped. It was a pretty name he'd expect from a girl like her, and she liked the way he said it. They had come to a street she'd never seen before. It wasn't a complete wreck, but many of the houses were old or seemed abandoned. She drove on through until Murdoc instructed her to stop suddenly as they reached his house. It was a lot closer than she had anticipated. The car jolted forward and he shot her a daring look before opening his door and climbing out.   
“I'll be back in a minute. Turn off the car and wait here.” He closed the door and walked around the front of the vehicle. The back gate creaked open and he saw his brother's car parked in the yard.  
Murdoc slipped through the back door and his eyes darted around frantically to check if anyone else was downstairs. When he saw the coast was clear, he advanced forward around the corner to the staircase. He listened closely to hear any indication of his father's presence, and was met with silence. He walked quickly up the stairs and into his room, closing the door softly and taking a moment to breathe it in. It wasn't enormous, but had the walls plastered in music posters of every rock band you could think of. There was a bed set up against the wall near the window with an ashtray. Murdoc picked up a worn, brown bag and met his dresser and began shoving every item on clothing he had inside of it. He picked up his stack of CDs on the dresser and shoved them in there as well. Next he went to the bed and rummaged underneath it for a moment before grabbing a small wooden box where he kept his cash and trinkets and did his best to fit it in the bag as well. This moment was a moment he had been waiting for for a long time, and he knew exactly what he needed. He retrieved a black, hard bass guitar case he had purchased with his own money around his fourteenth birthday and set it on top of the bed. He took one last scan to try to find a lighter, since he did need his own, but was unsuccessful.  
Hannibal's got to have one.   
He zipped up the backpack and swung it on his back, then grabbing his bass and making his exit. He briefly stopped in the doorway and turned his head over his shoulder, memories nostalgically washing through him as he knew it would hopefully be the last time he'd ever see it. He shook the thoughts away and made his final exit, shutting the door softly again. He then turned left and made his way to the room at one of the ends of the hallway. He wrapped his clammy hands around the doorknob and opened it slowly, looking inside to see Hannibal sprawled across his bed, listening to music with his eyes closed. Murdoc briefly looked around and saw a green lighter sitting on the end of his bed. He fully entered the room and Hannibal's eyes flicked open as he made his presence known.   
“You got a light?” Murdoc asked before he had to deal with ant small talk, which luckily wasn't his brother's thing anyway.   
“On the end of the bed,” he said unphased, leaning up and pointing to it and looking Murdoc over. “Where are you going?” He questioned as he analyzed the bag and instrument.   
Murdoc shrugged, grabbing the lighter and shoving it in his pocket.   
“Have fun.” Hannibal said only half sarcastically before closing his eyes and resuming his life.   
Murdoc was practically running down the stairs with his things in hand. He stopped at the bottom of the stairwell and listened for signs of his father’s presence. After hearing nothing, he walked out the way he came in and fortunately still saw Brianna waiting in the car.   
What am I doing?  
Questioning himself for only a moment, he put his belongings in the back of the car and got back into the passenger’s seat.   
“Where to?” She asked dramatically, resting her hands against the wheel like royalty.   
“Get on the highway, and don’t get off until I wake up.” Murdoc grumbled, his body aching and his mind weak and pounding. A jacket against the door was all he needed to lean his head against to fall asleep. Brianna made a face of surprise but pushed down on the gas to drive away nonetheless.


	5. It Almost Went Alright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Car broken? Yes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry again for leaving this for so long but it is going to get interesting!!!! pls trust me

A few hours passed of Brianna driving a strangers car down the highway. Despite his hardened and disturbing presence, Murdoc was sleeping so soundly it was as if he wasn’t there at all. His hair rested softly over his closed eyes and beaten face. Dried blood smeared over his nose and mouth, but his lips were soft and parted, breathing smoothly. The radio had been playing timidly in the background to keep Brianna company on her lonely drive. Should I Stay or Should I Go by The Clash was playing, and Brianna was humming along. Then she started to quietly sing along, and she wasn’t half bad. Her voice was soft but stern and floated along the notes effortlessly. Without her knowing, Murdoc had woken up, but had not moved from his spot on the door.   
Into the chorus of the song, Brianna was dancing back and forth, focusing on the road but focusing even more on the song. Murdoc sat up, grinning slightly. Her gaze went to the movement in the corner of her vision, and saw Murdoc awake beside her. She stopped dancing and singing to turn the radio down and clear her throat.   
“How’d you sleep?” She blurted out awkwardly, trying to ignore that he just saw her acting like a fool.   
“The pain’s still there, but I’ll be fine.” He muttered as he stretched. “Take the next exit so we can switch and get a coffee or something.”  
She nodded and switched lanes to get where she needed to go. They were near a small town with a few shops and far in between each other houses. Brianna looked out the window at the wooded neighborhood. Then there was a loud pop, causing Murdoc and Brianna's full attention to shoot out the windshield.   
"What the hell was that?" Murdoc shouted, "You better not have popped my tire! Pull over."   
He sounded angry and Brianna clutched onto the steering wheel nervously with a panicky feeling in her chest. She pulled the car over and the two got out, Murdoc much faster than her. Sure enough, a flat tire.   
"Of course! For the love of Satan, I thought you could handle driving for a few damn hours and you pop the tire? Fuck!" He preached angrily, throwing his arms around and getting louder with each remark.   
Murdoc turned instinctively to see her reaction. Her face was red and her eyes were glossy as tears streamed down her face. She was crying silently. His heart dropped as his actions brought a realization to him. He sounded just like his father.  
"I-I'm… I'm--" She stuttered through her panic and guilt.   
It was like he caught himself off guard, reacting in the only way he thought was right. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, bringing her into his aching chest. She was still for a moment, caught off guard.  
“You didn’t do anything wrong. It was a mistake. I shouldn’t have gotten so angry... it’s been a rough few days.” He shushed her in a way like he wished his father would instead of screaming and letting it out against him.   
"Murdoc, we're stranded in the middle of nowhere. This was a bad idea." She almost giggled as she rested into his hug.   
"We'll figure it out, love. Don't you worry. Besides, we're not stranded. Looks like we're in a cutesy little town." Murdoc released her from the hug, feeling a little shaken up. He looked around at the surroundings and planned the next move.


End file.
